


The Perks of Seven O'Clock Classes

by helloinspiration



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, First Meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 03:26:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2717144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloinspiration/pseuds/helloinspiration
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>However, instead of his Macbook coming out of his messenger bag after he reached inside, a garishly neon energy drink came out. He popped the lid off his coffee, cracked open the can, and poured it in. Lifting up his cup as if calling a toast, he fixed his eyes on her curious ones. </p><p>“I’m going to die,” he declared only a little manically, and tilted his head back to down it in one go. </p><p>(AKA The One Where James and Lily Meet in a Near-Death-by-Caffeination Situation.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Perks of Seven O'Clock Classes

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [this](http://m-azing.tumblr.com/post/98731672822/korrakun-my-favorite-college-experience-is-when) post
> 
> dedicated to [Liz](http://geekgirl-liz.tumblr.com/), the lovely Lily to my James
> 
> originally posted on my tumblr, and you can read it there ([x](http://gingerbreadpotters.tumblr.com/post/103450387559/the-perks-of-seven-oclock-classes)) as well

Despite her usual upbeat demeanor in her first classes of the day, Lily was not by definition a “morning person.” After her alarm went off, pounding in her brain, she practically fell out of bed attempting to get up. She was a groaning, bedraggled mess until after a hot shower or at least half a cup of tea.

Unlike her entire 7 o’clock class - who acted like zombies every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday - she paid rapt attention, as she was not wasting the several thousand pounds she was paying for her university education because of the early hour. She nursed her tumbler of tea (a nice strong English Breakfast, with a bit of honey) and took notes in her own short-hand.

For the most part, her classmates were fairly indistinguishable in their unspoken uniform: hoodies pulled over, baggy sweats, poorly tied trainers with a large coffee or poison in a can. Most had their chins barely propped up over their folded-over arms, barely taking notes (or as she had come to suspect, sleep-typing).

So when a guy stumbled into a seat beside her in the lecture hall one particularly grueling Monday morning, coffee in hand, she thought nothing of it. His hair was bed-messy like his kin, and his glasses were fittingly askew. However, instead of his Macbook coming out of his messenger bag after he reached inside, a garishly neon energy drink came out. He popped the lid off his coffee, cracked open the can, and poured it in. Lifting up his cup as if calling a toast, he fixed his eyes on her curious ones. 

“I’m going to die,” he declared only a little manically, and tilted his head back to down it in one go. 

Her face must have betrayed her horror, because after he wiped his mouth off on the back of his hand, his smile grew wider. 

“No need to worry, love. I won’t let my roguish good looks be stolen from the world just yet.”

She raised an eyebrow and was about to tell him just what an idiot he was when their professor cleared his throat and began his lecture. The last look she had of him was as he scrambled to pull his computer out of his bag, and her pen connected to paper.

* * *

Scrambling to gather her things - she never liked being the last one out of a classroom unless she had a particularly pertinent question for her lecturer - she packed up and moved out into the hallway. Moving to rinse out her tea receptacle in the nearby student lounge, she felt a tap on her shoulder.

“I promised you, didn’t I?” She turned around abruptly, accidentally elbowing the voice in the side, who gave a small _oof!_

“Promised me what - ?” It was the insane boy from her lecture. Right. 

“You had no need to be so antsy, although I would have let you take my pulse every five minutes if that would have calmed you,” he said, a lazy smirk on his face as he nursed his side.

“I wasn’t antsy, I don’t know where you got that idea,” she retorted, turning back to her task of cleaning her tumbler. 

“Your knee kept bouncing. You normally sit still and at attention.”

“Which means absolutely nothing, unless you’ve been studying me for the past four weeks, in which case, you’re a complete creeper. Although I don’t know how you would watch me that carefully when you’re usually half-dead.”

“Nah, that was the first time all semester. Not that you would notice anyway, because I usually sit in the back with my mates.” That didn’t answer her first notion, but for some reason she didn’t mind.

“Glad to be a substitute for you, then. If you don’t mind - “ She turned around after tucking her cup back in her bag, leaving her face-to-face with him, barely a few inches between them.

“I was the only one mad enough to make it to class today, but one of us had to take notes.” His breath was warm on her face, and smelled absolutely atrocious.

“Good for you,” she breathed, transfixed by both his proximity and the way his eyes sparkled behind his smudged glasses. “I hope you’re well-rewarded.”

“Oh, I think I already have been,” he replied. “Definitely worth risking my life for.”

* * *

He disappeared in a blink, before she could respond. She would forget about her encounter all day until she taking off her jacket that afternoon, where she found a café receipt with a mobile number written on the back and

_James, better known as_  
_‘that barmy bloke who nearly O.D.’d on caffeine right in front of you’_  
_AKA the bloke who would like to take you out on Friday._  



Lily rolled her eyes, but placed the ragged piece of paper on her dresser instead of tossing it in the rubbish bin.


End file.
